


EX-SUPERHERO, A VIGILANTE AND A PSYCHIC VS. THE HOUSE MOUSE

by AgnesClementine



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ben is also there, Gen, Humor??, Maybe - Freeform, and it's with Ben at all times, but I suck so he's like, referenced 3 times or so ahjdh, these idiots share half a brain cell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23188072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgnesClementine/pseuds/AgnesClementine
Summary: Diego looks at Luther. Now, the sensible, rational thing would be coming to terms with the fact that they have been defeated by a rodent.But Hargreeves haven’t been sensible or rational a day in their lives so fuck that.
Relationships: +Ben, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves
Comments: 12
Kudos: 108





	EX-SUPERHERO, A VIGILANTE AND A PSYCHIC VS. THE HOUSE MOUSE

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. I kind of really fucking love this trio now adhskvbfh. They are all idiots.
> 
> Let me know what you think about this and enjoy! :)

When Allison reminds him that ambulance is reluctant to come to their address after the last incident for the fifth time- 10 minutes after he entered the house-, Diego swiftly pushes her through the front door and closes it in her face. She’s going shopping with Vanya and Five- for clothes, books, something else? Diego didn’t ask and doesn’t care.

He just dragged himself in after a whole night of patrolling, stinking of exhaust smoke and rain, and a hot shower, dry clothes, and a soft bed are only things on his mind.

“Oh, Diego, hey!”

That is, of course, after he gets rid of Klaus.

“What do you want?” He asks, bringing his wrist to his mouth and ripping the Velcro on his glove open with his teeth.

“Oh, what, I can’t just be happy to see my favorite brother?” He sees Klaus mockingly grab at his chest in his periphery, “You wound me, Diego.”

“You’ll live,” he responds back flatly. He sticks the gloves in the back pocket of his pants, bends down to unlace his boots.

“Well, duh,” Klaus says. After a beat, “You’re going out?”

Diego pauses, looks up at his brother to try gauging if he’s serious. With Klaus, people can never be completely sure.

“Do I look like I’m going out?”

Klaus shrugs, “I wasn’t going to assume.”

“Right,” Diego responds, pulling off his sopping wet socks and balling them in his fist. His bare feet slap against the tiled floor as he starts for the stairwell and makes his way up the stairs.

“So? Are you going out? In the near future? By which I mean in the next 30 minutes?” Klaus calls after him.

“No.”

Why would he want to get out while it’s still pouring, Diego doesn’t know. And, if he thinks about it, why would others what to go out either? But no, fuck that. Shower, clothes, bed and _then_ he’ll consider thinking about anything.

  * ●●●●



A nap and three hours later, Diego shuffles into the kitchen with a craving for white chocolate. Which he knows should be in the fridge because he bought it two days ago and put it between a jar of mayo and the block of butter. Except, when he opens the fridge, it’s not there.

He turns on his heel with a scowl and addresses the room with, “Who the fuck ate the chocolate?”

His eyes find Klaus first, scraping the last of peanut butter from the bottom of the jar with a butter knife, suspiciously avoiding looking at him.

“Klaus?” He asks dangerously. Because he knows Klaus has a habit of putting pieces of chocolate in his coffee and that he’s not picky about what kind of chocolate it is.

Klaus twitches on his perch on the counter near the sink and lurches backward before finding his balance again. He says, “Hey! Don’t look at me like that. Maybe Luther did it.”

Luther, solving a crossword at the table, looks up sharply, startled.

“It wasn’t me!” He says indignantly with wide eyes.

“Are you sure?” Klaus edges him, “It was white and, I mean, you are kinda vanilla.”

Luther splutters.

“I didn’t eat it!” He repeats, ears pink. He shoots a glare at Klaus.

Diego closes the fridge with, admittedly, more force than necessary. It rattles where it stands but if Luther accidentally tossing him against it during some roughhousing when they were 10 didn’t end it, nothing will.

He opens his mouth to say how someone now owes him a bar of chocolate- but something small scurries over the floor, underneath the table, and then out of the room.

Klaus screeches, “A mouse!”

Luther and he look at each other. With determination to keep their home vermin-free, the two of them take off after the rodent.

“Wait for me!” Klaus screams, abandoning his peanut butter and hurrying to catch up.

They race down the hallway, calling out to each other, “There!” and “I see it!” and “Where the fuck did it go?”

They lose it in the living room.

“Uh,” Klaus says, peering around with half-interest.

Luther’s eyes are jumping around wildly, hoping to catch a quick motion on that ugly as sin carpet. “We should call the exterminators,” he says thoughtfully.

“Aw, it’s just one teeny-tiny mouse,” Klaus says lightly.

“One that we have seen,” Diego responds. He’s pretty sure it disappeared somewhere behind the shelves…

“Yeah, who knows how many of them are there,” Luther agrees. “This one probably got scared when Diego slammed the fridge.”

“I didn’t slam it.”

“You totally slammed it.”

“I didn’t- shut up, Klaus.”

Klaus holds his hands up in surrender and plonks down on the couch unceremoniously.

There is a beat of awkward silence where they are all just looking around. Honestly, how hard could it be catching that one mouse? There’s three of them, it doesn’t stand a chance.

He nudges Luther with his elbow. “Let’s move that bookshelf.”

It scrapes loudly over the floor on Diego’s end and he winces, knowing it will leave scratches.

“Aw, shit,” Luther says softly.

Diego sticks his head in the gap between the wall and the bookshelf.

“Aw, shit,” he repeats, spying a tiny hole in the corner of the wall. That little fucker’s gonna eat through their electrical cords.

“Aw, shit what?” Klaus asks. He wiggles himself next to Diego, shoving his head underneath his.

“Aw, shit,” he echoes.

Diego looks at Luther. Now, the sensible, rational thing would be coming to terms with the fact that they have been defeated by a rodent.

But Hargreeves haven’t been sensible or rational a day in their lives so _fuck that_.

  * ●●●●



3 pm finds Diego crawling through the hallways on all fours, peering at the corners and suspicious holes. His knees and lower back ache and he just knows he’ll feel like hell once he stands up.

Maybe he can talk Luther into popping his joints for him.

He’s also still in his pajamas; AKA ratty pair of sweatpants and a depressingly faded T-shirt that Klaus dyed pink in the wash along with multiple items belonging to other siblings. Five is now a proud owner of seven pale pink dress shirts. Maybe that’s why they went out shopping. Huh.

He moves a small decorative table away from the wall and sighs. Another hole. And yep, he can see the powerline. This will either end up with someone getting electrocuted or this whole house catching fire.

Klaus has been tasked with keeping watch in the living room, and Luther is going through the rooms. They meet up at the stairwell and both cringe when Diego’s knees pop as he gets to his feet. His lower fucking back. He doesn’t give a shit, he’s running himself a hot bath when this mess is over.

“So?”

“4 holes in Dad’s office,” Luther tells him, “uh, one in your room too.”

“ _Motherfucker._ ”

Luther grimaces sympathetically.

They make their way back to the living room. Where Klaus is cowering in front of one of the showcases, ass in the air and one hand shoved underneath it.

“Luther! Diego! Quick! I have it! I fuckin’ have it!” He yells at them victoriously.

“What? Well, get it out then,” Diego tells him, looking around for something where they can put it before they throw it out of the house. His eyes fall on an antique vase near the couch and he figures _what the hell_ , he hates that thing anyway.

He grabs the vase and Klaus says, “Well, I don’t exactly “ _have it_ ” have it.”

“Uh, what?” Luther blinks at him.

Klaus gestures with his free hand, “It’s somewhere under there. I just need to grab it.”

Diego wants to point out that he’s not even looking.

“Ah,” Klaus says, seeing his pointed expression, “fear not, _mein Bruder_. I have a strategy. See, this little bastard thinks he’s being clever and that he can escape me but I’m unpredictable. He’s not gonna see me coming and then I’ll grab him.”

“I think you’re the one who’s not gonna see him,” Luther retorts.

Klaus pouts. “Yeah, you just mock my genius,” he tells them. Then, “Shush, Ben.”

Then there’s a sharp, metallic click and Klaus jumps away from the showcase with a loud yowl.

“Ahhhh! Fuck! Shit!” He screams, a mousetrap clamped on his fingers.

Luther steps away before he can become a victim to Klaus’ flailing limbs.

“Ow! Ow! Take it off!” He yells, swings his arm- and pelts Diego across the face.

The mousetrap flies away onto the couch, Diego sees stars dancing in front of his eyes and lets out, “Fucking hell! Klaus!”

“Sorry!” Klaus squeaks out. Then a quieter, “Ow,” and cradles his hand to his chest.

Luther looks between the two of them warily. “I think you both need ice,” he says in the end.

“No shit,” Diego grouches.

  * ●●●●



He’s nursing a bag of frozen peas against the side of his face, letting the cold to numb the pain and turn it into a faint throbbing, while Klaus stares at his ice wrapped hand mournfully.

“We should probably get that trap,” Klaus says suddenly, “before someone sits on it and gets his balls or lady bits pinched.”

Luther grimaces, disturbed by the mental picture. “Uh, I’ll go,” he says and stands up.

Diego cracks his neck, almost groaning in relief as his vertebras pop.

“Gross,” Klaus informs him, shuddering.

Then Luther hollers, “Guys!” and they are both on the move.

He’s perched on the couch and looking at something behind the backrest. Diego clambers on next to him and Klaus on the other side.

With utmost seriousness, Luther says, “The mouse,” and points at the tiny huddle of fur near the edge of the carpet. It’s furiously devouring a small piece of moldy cheese. It is most definitely moldy from age. That thing’s gonna go nuts now and eat someone’s face in their sleep if they don’t get it today. There’s an evil gleam in its pitch-black eyes and it looks-

“Aw, it’s kinda cute,” Klaus coos.

“So is Five until you get too close,” Diego tells him.

Luther hums in agreement. There is a reason why the ambulance doesn’t want to come here anymore.

Klaus huffs at them, dismissing their reason, and gasps, “Luther! Quick! Gimme a unisex name!”

“Um,” Luther blinks, “Alex?”

“Wow, so basic. Diego?”

Diego shrugs.

Klaus looks profoundly disappointed in both of them. “In that case, Trufflepuffs it is.”

Diego and Luther both whip their heads to look at him.

“ _What?_ ” They chorus.

“Shut up, _Alex and shrug_. At least Ben’s original.”

Diego gets a horrifying thought and says, “You’re not keeping it as a pet,” to nip that idea in the bud.

Klaus makes a farting noise in response.

The mouse startles, dropping its half-finished slice of cheese, and skitters away. Back towards the kitchen.

They zoom after it just to see it hide inside a pipe just sticking out of the wall next to the stove. It’s just about wide enough to fit a head through and Diego honestly has no idea what it’s for, but it’s always been there.

They stand around it. Not sure how to proceed.

“Someone should check if it’s still inside,” Diego says. If the pipe goes on, they most definitely lost it- but if it doesn’t, then they have it cornered.

Klaus and Luther look at him.

He scowls, “Fuck no.” His face already suffered enough today.

They look at Klaus.

Klaus shakes his head, “Nah, I already got my head stuck there when we were 12.”

Well. That leaves-

Luther looks at the pipe apprehensively.

“Do I have to?”

“Definitely.”

“Yep.”

He sighs and slinks down to the floor. He lies on his stomach, gets closer and squints into the dark.

“So?” Klaus asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe? Wait-“ and then he cuts off on a gag and jerks away with, “Oh, shit! It touched my mouth!”

Diego pushes a fist over his mouth, feeling bile rising up his throat.

“Oh, that’s- that’s disgusting,” Klaus says.

Luther gags again, looking a bit green.

The mouse jumps out and Luther springs to his feet, trying to get as far away as possible. He trips on a chair leg, thwacks Diego in the side and pushes him into Klaus in the process.

Diego’s ankle catches Klaus’ and Klaus throws himself onto him and Luther, struggling for balance and screaming incoherently.

The mouse runs through the stampede of their feet.

“Oh, fuck-“

“Ow!”

“Watch ou-“

“-Diego-“

There a high squeak and a _crunch_ and they all fall silent.

Luther looks down at his feet, then up at them, eyes wide in horror. He goes pale.

He looks at them. They look at Luther.

Then, Klaus gasps dramatically and says, “You killed Trufflepuffs!”

“It was an accident!” Luther cries. His eyes water. Oh god.

Diego is a horrible, horrible person.

“Ben says that that’s what all murderers say,” Klaus tells Luther seriously.

Diego is 99.9% sure Ben did not say that.

Luther’s eyes bug out, “I didn’t mean to!” And oh, god, he looks like he’s about to cry.

Diego smacks a hand over his mouth, thinks about awful things like dead puppies or wrinkly grandpa dicks but it’s no use and the wheezing noise escapes him.

Luther pins him with a look of complete, earnest betrayal. That primal feeling of joy in the face of your sibling’s misery bubbles up in his chest and Diego cracks completely.

  * ●●●●



Others find them on the couch, socked feet kicked up on the coffee table, a shoebox on the far edge of it, and a tub of chocolate mint ice-cream circling between them.

“Hey,” Allison greets, watching them suspiciously, “what are you guys doing?”

“Nothin’,” they chorus. Diego scoops ice-cream in his mouth, sticks the spoon back in and passes it over to Luther.

“What’s in the box?” Vanya asks, reaching for the box and freezing when Klaus sighs, “Trufflepuffs.”

“Trufflepuffs?”

“What we managed to scrape off the floor and Luther’s boot,” Diego says.

Luther makes a mournful noise in his throat and sticks the spoon in his mouth.

Allison and Vanya exchange a look.

“We don’t want to know,” Allison tells them with a shake of her head.

They follow their sisters to the kitchen, where Five’s already starting to prepare coffee.

He grabs the bag with coffee beans from the cupboard- and then they all watch as the beans seep to the floor through a hole in the bottom of the bag.

Five’s eye twitches as he passively stares at his precious coffee literally falling out of his hands.

He slams the bag on the counter sharply and a dozen tiny furballs emerges from beneath it. Someone screams, someone swears.

Luther watches with dull eyes, clutching ice-cream tube to his chest. “I’ll call the exterminators,” he says flatly.

Diego laughs so hard he has to run to the bathroom.

Joke’s on him, though, because, three days later, Klaus guilt-trips Luther into getting him a hamster.

**Author's Note:**

> BONUS: The person who ate Diego's white chocolate at the beginning is Five. Klaus caught him red-handed but has been threatened with bodily harm into silence.


End file.
